Softly Sing Your Song
by EscapeFromLife
Summary: What would happen if someone's blood sang to Jasper? Would she die? Or would she be able to surrive? Not JasperxOC. Canon parings, in OC's POV R
1. There Is No Running From Your Probelms

**A/N: My plan was to work on one Fanfic. Yeah, like that worked. I felt I had to write this, as soon as a heard someone say 'sing your song softly', I thought of Twilight, and the singer thing, and then I thought of how Edward said that every human was the same to Jasper. And that made me think of…what if there is on human smelt differently. If you like it then reviews, please. If not, keep it to yourself, because frankly, if it is not constructive then, well, I wish you never to meet Edward, so there! Ha! (I would so do that, I am that evil) **** this is after Breaking Dawn, the Cullens have moved on. Nessie is somewhere with Jake. This is probably a bit sad and EMO but hey. I was bored. **

_Moving from Wales to Italy is like moving to a different country - Ian Rush_

**Softly Sing Your Song:**

**Chapter One:**

I could tell what it would be like before I even got there. Raining. What more could you expect from Portland? Jules had told me about the weather. It would be terrible; I would be a new girl, a freak. Not only have I just moved here, but I moved here from a different country. Stupid Ocean separating America and Britain. I had no idea why I decided that I would finally relocate to America to live with Jules, my mum. Or should I say mom now? Oh god, why the hell does this has to be so confusing! Grades instead of years…and then there's freshman and sophomore and senior. I won't last five minutes. I will be like…and alien amongst humans. I might as well come from Venus.

When the aeroplane (airplane?) finally landed, I couldn't breathe properly. My hands were shaking so much that when I went to give my passport to the tired looking man in the booth, I dropped it. A few people laughed. Now I will be forever known as that girl what dropped her passport in the airport. Fantastic.

The man frowned when he saw my picture. The girl in the picture had brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, and a small smile. I had black hair and my eyes didn't have any emotion. I definitely didn't have a smile on face. I glared at him. He stamped it, and then gives it back. I walked through to collect my one and only bag. I would play the guilt card on Jules. Or her _partner _Dave. Dave was sweet and all but…he wasn't my dad. Thinking about my father brought tears to my eyes. It was two years ago, when he died. Because of the long journey from London to Oregon, my social worker, Carol decided that I should live with my Uncle Keith in Essex. My physiatrist, Dr Stuart Melbourne agreed, the traitor. When my father died, everything about my old life died with him. I was sixteen. How he died was a mystery. Some doctors said it was an accidental overdose, others say it was suicide. No matter how much I wanted it to be the first option; I had to agree with the second one. When he died, I went to a foster home, and I got bloody Carol as a social worker. Carol annoyed me, bored me, and made my angry all at the same time. She could drone on about 'relationships' and 'not your fault' all night. I knew it was my fault. I was such a crap daughter that he decided to kill himself. My foster home was with a woman called Jane; she had already fostered children, but never a sixteen year-old. I started acting out. It was my way of saying, you can't tell _me _what to do. I dyed my hair black; I lost the cute kid smile. I hung out with people older than me. So what did Carol do? She sent me to physiatrist. Dr Melbourne did help. He got me to tell him everything. Every reason behind the action. I don't know how he did it. I thought I could trust him. Then Carol found out where m mother lived, and rang her Jules was only too happy to get me to stay with her, and I wanted to, but then Carol found out that she lived all the way in America. That stupid sea again. Carol thought that would traumatise me, going to a new place. And Essex wouldn't? Dr Melbourne agreed. I thought I could trust him.

But then, two years, four hundred and one appointments, three thousand pounds, two hundred dollars, and a lot moaning later, I was going to America.

The moment the plane lifted of, I was having regrets.

Jules was waiting for me. She smiled, and then looked closer.

"What did you do to your hair?" she demanded.

"Hi Jul…mum, nice to see you too." if I called her Jules to her face, she'd have a fit.

"But honey, it was so pretty before, long and brunette and beautiful. And you look so thin…have you been eating?" she already had lost her accent. She sounded so different, so…American.

"It got bored of long hair. And yes, I have been eating, obviously." I added, praying that she hadn't heard the last word. Part of it was truth. I do eat…when I want to, when I feel like it. The stupid, inconvenient truth was that the smell of food made me feel sick. My throat felt sore.

"Well, I'm gonna have to feed you up. And you should dye your hair back, and grow it. And stop straitening it, it looks lovely curly…" shut up, or I'll eat _you_, I wanted to say. Now I know why she and dad broke up. She was incredibly annoying.

Jules put my suitcase in the back, and she hugged me warmly. I wanted to cry. I hadn't been this close to anyone in two years.

"I know you'll love America, and the school here!" said Jules. She had been like this since we got in the car. I closed my eyes.

I couldn't remember getting out of the car, or getting into bed. When I woke up, the sky was grey, and it was raining. I knew that I would have to go to school. I pulled on a pair of dark jeans, a black shirt; a black jacket. I put on my red converse all stars. I didn't eat breakfast, but I took money for lunch. Almost taking pounds instead of dollars. I would have to get the money changed. Where the hell would I do that?

I realised I didn't have the faintest idea where the school was. Or a way to get there. I looked around the kitchen. I saw a note.

_Liz, _

_I've gone to work, Dave took me, so I've left you my car, drive safe…remember, the right side of the road, don't go in the wrong door, the school isn't far. I'll be back before, and there'll be a surprise here for you…_

_Love, Mom. _

Aggrh. She actually put 'mom'. I think I might scream. She has been here too long. I grabbed my bag, and walked to her car. It was a Mazda 5 in red. It was OK. I guess.

"Left side, left side." I murmured to myself.

My first lesson was English. This was good, something I could get to grips with easily. All the trigonometry and biology and algebra confused me.

"Hi, I'm Mark, you must be Elizabeth?" a boy with dark hair introduced him self.

"Hi…it's Liz, though. Never Elizabeth. Ever." I say. Mark grins.

"You're from Britain?" he said.

"Yes." I muttered. Now please leave me alone. I sent him telepathic messages, telling him to get lost.

"Where about?" he asked. He must have a strong telepathic force field.

"Urm…London." I said.

"What have you got next?" he asked. I checked my timetable. History. It could be worse.

"History." I told him. Something seemed to be amusing to him.

"Good luck with that." he said.

"Mr Ryan, could you please go back to your assigned seat?" said the teacher.

"Miss Williams, back row." the teacher commanded.

"You are?" asked the History teacher. I realised I hadn't listened at all to the previous conversation. What was her name?

"Liz Williams." I answered.

"Ah…yes, all the way from Britain." she said. Great. Does she want to tell my life story? I could write it down for her.

"Yeah." I said. I tried not to sound like I hated her.

"You can sit next to…" there was one spare seat. A boy at the back. He was very good looking. He had honey blonde hair and dark eyes. He looked uncomfortable. His eyes narrowed. He looked like he wanted to kill me, so he must have realised that I had to sit next to him. "Jasper Hale." she said. She handed me a book, and I walked to my new seat. As soon as I sat down, he stiffened. I didn't look at him. I didn't want to know. I knew why…it was because I was new, an outcast, a freak. This was nothing new.

"Page 118." was all I caught. There was a text book in the middle of the desk. Jasper made no move to turn to page 118, so I did.

Realisation hit me like a bomb.

"Shit." I whispered. I could feel Jasper's eyes on me.

I realised what Mark had meant by _Good luck with that_. This was American History, of course. How could I be so dim? Please say I have been sucked back to Britain by a time vortex, and that we are doing the plague or something…please, please, please.

I closed my eyes and lowered my head. Evil History Teacher started about some civil war. When I opened my eyes, I looked around. Hoping that Jasper had turned his attention to the lesson, I looked at him. He was at the extreme edge. He was staring at the desk, as though it was important. Am I really that bad?

I moved slightly. Then he got up, he was out of the room.

"Mr Hale?" Evil History Teacher called after him. She looked at me.

"I don't know." I mumbled. What had I done?

"Hey, London!" someone called me. Well I was pretty sure he meant me. I carried on walking. Before I knew it, Mark was next to me.

"Hi." I said. He was with two girls, and two other boys.

"This is; Lily, Harriet, Kaden and Jon." he pointed to them all in turn.

"Everybody this is Liz. From London." he said. "How did History go?" he asked, grinning.

"Terrible." I say. This was a first…people being nice to me.

"Who did you have?" asked the girl with mouse brown hair.

"Urm…I can't remember. She was tall with short black hair and blue eyes…" and she was evil, I silently added.

"Oh. Miss Jenkins! Poor you. Did she embarrass you?" asked Harriet.

"Not really. I wasn't listening." I admitted. I was too busy pondering why Jasper Hale hated me. Everybody else seemed nice.

"You got out easy." said Harriet, smiling, maybe at a memory.

I sat with Mark and his friends at lunch. I looked around the huge cafeteria. My eyes were drawn to a certain table. The people gathered around it were so incredibly beautiful that it made me ill. They looked completely different, yet so alike. One of the girls had black spiky hair, and was short and pixie like; she had a dreamy expression in her dark eyes. The second girl had blonde hair that reached down perfectly to her back. One on the boys had bronze hair and was beautiful; my eyes were next drawn to the second male, with black curly hair, and serious muscles. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn't place _who_.

Despite the difference in hair colouring, they all had pale skin and dark eyes. I knew exactly who would fit in here.

"Who are they?" I asked quietly. Lily, the girl with dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes smiled widely.

"The Cullens and Hales. The dark haired pixie like girl is Alice Cullen. The big dark haired one is Emmett Cullen. The bronze haired one is Edward Cullen. The brunette girl is Bella Hale, the blonde girl is Rosalie Hale and the blonde…oh he's not there. I swear I saw him earlier." said Lily.

"Who?" I asked. I had to make sure.

"Jasper Hale…" answered Lily. She looked confused.

Why the hell did he hate me so much?! Just as I was beginning to think I would actually fit in here, someone thinks that I'm so much of a freak he leaves?! I gazed back at the table. The bronze haired one - Edward looked at me. He caught me eye. Great, no I have to stare. Like with a dog, if it catches your eye, you have to out stare it, otherwise it will attack. Wait…was a just comparing someone to a dog. I saw him smile…almost as if… I looked away. I grabbed my bag and walked out.

"Where are you going, London?" asked Mark. I ignored him. I couldn't deal with being the main attraction, the new girl. The weirdo, the freak, the loser, not again. Not now.

What do I do? Fein illness for the rest of my school life? Or plead insanity and go back to London or Essex, where I belong, with Carol, Keith and Dr Melbourne.

_There is no running from your problems. _

* * *

**A/N: Review, and you CAN meet Edward. (I can be nice, too.)**


	2. Must Try Harder

I lay in bed with the pillow covering my face. It was difficult to breathe, but I can't sleep in the light. It bothers me, it makes me restless.

I pull it of my face when I here a noise from downstairs. I sighed. Whoever it was, they would notice the car that I was supposed to be driving and would come to investigate. I checked my watch. It was almost five. Had time really gone by that quickly? At least I wouldn't get into trouble for skipping class.

I decided that I would go downstairs - try to act friendly. Try to act normal.

I walked into the living room. Jules, Dave and a small blonde girl sat in different places. I forgot that Dave had a daughter from a previous marriage.

Apparently, she stayed over every other week, for a week. The girl looked happy to see me.

She skipped up, and walked happily over to me.

"Hi, I'm Jodie! You must be Liz!" she said, in a sugar voice. Why did she have to shout? I nodded.

"We're going to be friends!" she said. Again, with the shouting.  
"Do you want to play with me?" she asked. I almost laughed out loud. Was she seriously asking me to play? Did I look that desperate? Probably.

"No, thanks. I have homework." I say. She looks crestfallen. I never signed up for playing. Her sad brown eyes widened.

"Maybe another time." I say.

She looks happier. My good deed.

"Thank you, Lizzie!" she says, and she skips of. Lizzie? No way. That's worse than Elizabeth!

"No problem." I mutter.

"How was your first day?" asks Jules.

Terrible. "Great."

"Where people nice?" she asks.

"Yes. Really...nice." With one exception.

"Do you think you'll like it here?" she continues with the inquisition.

"Yeah, I think so." I say, to make her happy. If I'm not, she may as well be. She smiles.

"I'm glad; I was worried at first, that you wouldn't like it. I know you miss your dad, but after he committed suicide…" She started. I just stared at her. What right did she have that entitled her to speak about my father like that? She can't just say something like that in front of me! I stared at her, unsmiling.

"Oh, Liz I'm sorry. I didn't know you were still that sensitive about it." Jules said.

I'm not sensitive.

"It's OK, mum. It happened a long time ago." I said. Yeah two years, what a long time…not.

"Oh honey…" she started.

"I'm going to do my homework." I tell her.

I wasn't really going to do my homework. I never did homework back home; did she think I was going to do it _here?_ I could hear Jodie's loud sugar load voice from upstairs, I could almost feel the over the top happiness that seemed to radiate of her.

There was a part of me that almost wished I had agreed to 'play' with Jodie. Why? Because I was bored…and being bored made me think. Being bored made me think about stuff I didn't want to think about. It made me think about _problems_.

And I had enough of those. After an hour of trying not to think about, well, anything, there was a knock on my door, _my door_, _the door_.

"Come in." I said. Jodie skipped into my room.

"Jules said that dinner is on the table, and to come down and eat something!" she said – shouted.

"OK." I say. I follow her downstairs. Her blond hair swishing all over the place, like that one of the _Brady Bunch_. Which one was it? The one that heard the voice in her head?

I pushed thought to the back of my mind, for as long as possible. And I started to think of The Plan of Action, TPA, for short. What would I do, to get myself back to England? Or would I stay here and suffer? I'm supposed to by trying.

_Must try harder, _like my old teachers used to say, I even miss them.

I ate lasagne in silence, not uttering a word. Because if I said something, I would say the wrong thing. I want to like it here, I want to be happy. But it's hard. What do you make conversations about anyway? I looked out the window.

"It's raining," I point out.

"Yes. It is." says Jules. She looked out the window and then at me.

"Why did you dye your hair?" she asked. "And cut it?" she asked.

"I don't know. I was sad at the time. I wanted something different." I tell her, a half truth.

"Oh. OK." She said.

Silence filled the room again.

When I woke up, I was debating with myself if I should go to school or not. To go to school, or not to go? That is the question. I weighed the pros and cons.

I would go – if I was trying, then I'd have to go. Where did this strange, positive attitude come from? I had woken up early, so I got dressed and went downstairs; Jules and Jodie were in the kitchen, eating cereal.

"Do you mind if I use the computer?" I asked Jules.

"No, of course not, sweetie." She said.

I want into the study, and turned on the computer. I was useless at those things – I couldn't ever get the hang of them. Too many buttons and plugs and wires for me.

When it had booted up, I went on to google. It was the start of trying – I would have to try in lessons too, which also meant actually knowing what the hell they were all on about. I typed in Civil War.

I love google. It's the best invention since paperclips.*

Jules was taking Jodie to school, in Dave's car, (what had Dave done?), and I took Jules car again.

This time I planned to stay for a full day.

When I got there, Mark seemed to appear out of nowhere. How did he do that?

"Where did you go yesterday?" he asked, he looked genuinely concerned. (Mental note to self – Americans are _so _much kinder than the British).

"Urm…I felt really, really ill, so I had to go home. Sorry." Why did I apologise?

"Oh. We were worried about you, that's all." He said. It almost made me feel like crying, worried, about me?

"Oh. Well I'm here now, and feeling so much better." I tell him.

"Good. That's good." He said.

And I went on with my day, until History. Jasper Hale wasn't there – I tried not to care. But I did.  
_Must try harder._

**A/N: Sorry it took so long, but I posted it earlier than I thought I would. I dragged myself away from homework (for Religion, a WHOLE booklet on Judaism – I had to google everything – my booklet is so cool though! And pretty, very pretty. The paper is pink! Sorry, babbling) **

_*After all, where would we be without PAPERCLIPS?_


	3. Diamonds Cut Diamonds

Of course, trying harder was easier said then done. I tried to balance everything.

I still couldn't help but mind that Jasper had been absent for a week and a half.

I did my homework, I didn't cut class, I listened, I tried my hardest, I was nice to my friends and family, I even played with Jodie. Jules was very surprised – and I tried not to take offence to how surprised she was. When Jodie left, she told that she was 'proud' of me. On Wednesday, I got dressed as normal, and drove to school in Jules's car. Everything felt normal, until I got to History. History was better – I didn't know anything, but I pretended that I knew. As long as no-one actually asked me, I was fine.

When I walked in, I looked at my desk, expecting it be empty, as it had been for the last six days, but it wasn't. Jasper Hale was sat in his seat. I had tried not to think about him – or his unexplained and slightly annoying disappearance.

I wasn't sure _what _to do. I didn't know if I should just sit there and pretend that he never left, or should I leave?

I couldn't leave. I would have to stay. I went to sit down. I couldn't help feeling nervous. I felt my self literally shaking, why was I so afraid? I sat down, still almost shaking. And then I felt calmer, suddenly. I felt myself relax. And then I felt like I should say something.

"Hi." I manage to choke out, in a mouse-like whisper. For a moment, I wasn't sure if he had heard me or not.

"Hello," he said. He had obviously heard me. His voice sounded musical, making even the simplest 'hello' sound like it belonged in a song. I turn to face him, slowly. Last time he walked out when I had moved. He didn't walk out this time, but he moved to. I tried not to be upset by this motion. Some people just didn't _like _to be near people.

"I'm Liz…" I say. _Nice one, Liz_. I thought to myself. Miss Jenkins had made me tell everybody in the class my name the first lesson. Like he needed to know again. I swear I see him smile. That's better than running away.

"Jasper," he says. I got out of that one. A few seconds later, Miss Jenkins officially starts the lesson. Her voice droning, and droning, like an irritating bee buzzing in my ear. Miss Jenkins could make the most interesting thing in the world boring. It must be a talent. She should get a medal or something. I suddenly imagined a parade dancing through the door, people dressed in multi-colours like a circus and then awarding Miss Jenkins with The Most Boring Person in the World medal. When there was a sudden knock at the door, I seriously thought that the power of wishful thinking had succeeded, and that would actually happen. But it was just another teacher, one that I hadn't had. They spoke in that way teachers do when they want to the students out of their conversations, in hushed, quick tones. But they never speak hushed or quickly enough. I didn't listen, like I knew the majority of the class would be. I didn't listen because I didn't care enough. When Miss Jenkins finished her private conversation, she turned back to the class and continued to speak in her boring voice, only now there was an underline of irritation.

"Elizabeth?" Miss Jenkins addressed me. Why did she feel the need to address me by my full name? It made me confused.

"What?" I said. I couldn't be bothered to be polite.

"Would you tell us the answer to the question, or were you too busy in your own world?" said EHT (_Evil History Teacher). _Everybody stared at me. I decided that I would guess if I got it wrong, she could hardly condemn me for _trying_, could she?

Yes, she probably could. I looked around the room for inspiration.

"1865." I said. For a moment, she glared at me.

"Lucky guess." She practically snarled. I was pleased – with myself, and pleased that I managed to irritate her. I don't think she likes me, much.

"Write out page 125." EHT told us, "I will be back in a minute." She walked out of the classroom, her heels were clicking. As soon as she was out of earshot, the whole class started talking. I didn't. Me, I had no-one to talk to. I stared blankly at the page, trying to make sense out of the many words. Page 125 was dictated completely by words. No wonder she told us to copy out _this_ page.

"So…what was the question?" I decide to ask Jasper.

"When was the end of the war." He said.

"Oh. Well. That_ was_ a lucky guess." I say. He smiles again. "How many times did she ask me before I actually answered?" I ask.

"She asked before she left the room once, and then she carried on. And then she asked three more times." He told me.

"Oh. No wonder she sounded mad." I said. I was silent. How was it fair, that she asked the only person in this school who _wouldn't _know the answer to that question?

I stared at the page for a minute. Ms Jenkins lied. She took longer than a minute. Two minutes. I started to copy out the boring page. Why did she want us to copy out the page? It's not like I'll read it ever again. Unless I was forced to. No. Actually, I wouldn't read it even if I was forced to read it; I would just pretend to read it, and, like it had been five minutes ago, hope that luck would be on my side. I copied out the tedious words. There are so many ways to describe how boring it was – not just the work – I didn't mind it, but actually _knowing_ what went on where would've helped, but how boring it was copying out somebody else's work. It was uninteresting, monotonous, dull, mind-numbing and tiresome. And so much more.

I wrote quickly, not taking any of it in. I finished before most people – who hadn't even started, as they were still talking about last week.

History would be so much better if I could time-travel.

When Ms Jenkins finally came back, everybody went deadly silent. When we were released, I was out last. Ms Jenkins held up her hand to stop me leaving. She glared at me. I glared back. Not a smart move.

"I'll get straight to the point, Elizabeth," she started. I winced at 'Elizabeth'.

"What?" I interrupted.

"Well…you don't seem to…_excelling _in history." She said.

"How can I _excel _when I just got here." I protested, making sure I put emphasis on the word 'excel' in the exact same way she had. She stared at me, unblinking. I stared right back at her. We were equally matched, when it came to arguing, I could tell, Diamond and Diamond.

"That's why – I think you should get a tutor." She said.

"A tutor? No." I say, still glaring at her.

"If you refuse, we can get your parents in." she threatened.

"Parent_s_? You can try. It's going to be hard getting my dad in." I say, with as much venom in my life as I could have. She blinked, but didn't say anything.

"He's dead." I say flatly. For a moment, I see a flicker of emotion in her eyes. I walk past her.

_Diamond cuts Diamond. _

**A/N: Hi. Thanks to SweetoothMegs for the tutor idea! And to Leo102 for the review (mucho appreciated). **

**OK. I realise now that I never put a 'disclaimer' up. So I disclaim any ownership of anything that I may have implied that I claim. (I don't own. I like to complicate things.) **

**And I won't be updating from these dates (there is like, a 98% change that I ****won't ****update) 6****TH**** April to 27****TH**** April (I'm in Germany – with family Aggrh three weeks with my grandmother)  
****And 18****TH ****July to 27****TH ****(Chichester – with my friends). They're the only official dates that I won't be updating. Okie. Please Review…  
**_**Le revisioni sono molto apprezzato – sempre.  
**__**The reviews are much appreciated – always. (Italian)**_

**_(Also - before I make any rash discisions I was THINKING - I'm asking whoever is reading this - should I make this a JasperXOC, I don't know 'cos I really like JASPERXALICE - but I'm not sure...I need help!) _**


	4. Sickness

"_I won't make you do anything you don't want to do." He whispered into my ear. His warm breath tickled my neck; his silky voice sent a shiver down my spine. I knew he was lying, I knew he would make me do something I didn't want to do. His friends were sat on the wall outside the youth centre. They had invited me here. I knew I shouldn't have agreed to it, but Joe was the most popular boy in the school. All the girls wanted him, badly. And he choose me! I was ecstatic at first. He was good-looking from a distance, but up-close he was another spotty boy. His breath smelt like beer. He turned me to face him. I turned straight back around. His friends laugh. He doesn't like this. _

"_Do you need some privacy, Lizzie?" he said. He grabs my wrist and pulls me over towards the woods that surrounded the youth centre. I stupidly follow him, letting him take control of my body. Once we were deep in the woods, he spins me to face him again. He slams my body into a tree. His face right up in mine. His horrible, sour beer breath on my face. He kisses me roughly. I try to move away but he has me pinned against the tree. I struggle against him. He moved his hands and started to undo the buttons of my shirt. Tears start to roll down my cheeks. _

"_Get of me!" I cry. He laughs. _

"_You going to dress like a slut and not act like one, Lizzie?" he said, his eyes fly down to my short skirt. _

"_Joe, just get of me, please!" I shout. He laughs again. A horrible rough sound. _

"_Why? You wanna do _this l_ying down?" he taunts. My knee flies up and kicks him. _

_He doubles over to the ground. _

"_BITCH!" he shouts. I run, stumbling in my heels, my vision obstructed by my tears of anger, sorrow and shame. _

I wake up with a start. My breathing was fast, my heart racing. It wasn't the first night I had dreamed of Joe. Or Devil Spawn as he was more commonly known.

After that…_episode _I had stopped wearing tight shirts and short skirts. I hadn't told anyone about it. I wasn't sure if it counted as an offence. He hadn't actually _raped_ me.

He and his friends hated me after that. And all his little followers. They stole my stuff and called me freak.

Tears formed into my eyes. I wiped them away. I sat up in bed. One of the curtains was open so I could see the rain pattering on the glass of the window, running down the pane. School. I wish EHT would phone home and bugger of.

I was annoyed at the 'tutor' still.

Grant it, I had only made it a eighth of the way through the civil war google session. It confused me. I got out of bed. Tears continued to roam down my cheeks. I stood in the middle of the room, not sure what to actually do. I didn't want to think about Devil Spawn. But he wouldn't leave my mind. My tears stopped being silent. I was crying quite loudly. I sat on the floor my head in my knees. I couldn't stop. It was the first time in two years that I had cried out loud. Jules came in, already dressed.

"What's wrong sweetie?" she asked me. I was crying so much I was choking. I didn't want to tell her.

"Nothing." I lied. But everything was wrong.

"Something is wrong! Are you sick?" she asked. Sick in the head. Insane.

"Not really." I said. She hugged me for a while, just being there. She smoothed my hair, shushing me. She actually felt like a mother again.

"Let go." I said.

"OK, sweetie." She moved quickly. I didn't want to love her again. Last time I did she left me. I didn't want anybody to leave me again.

When she left me I got up, I turned on the light. I would most defiantly be late for school. I didn't care. I got dressed, and I left the house.

The car park was totally empty when I got there. It was still raining, and cold.

I walked into English. Mark looked at me.

"Where have you been? Why weren't you in Bio?" he asked.

"I…I felt ill then I decided that I would come in." I half-lied. I wasn't planning on going to school.

"Are you OK now?" said Mark.

"Fine." I say.

"Sure?" he asked.

"I'm sure." I sigh. He looked at me.

"I'm fine." I insist.

But my 'dream' continued playing through my head like an unforgettable scene from a horror film. It did actually make me feel sick.

I needed a mental health day.

**A/N: Sorry, this is the shortest chapter I've written for this story, and it's really, really short! So sorry (times a million, not writing it a million times though). Thanks again. I'm defiantly updating before I go to Germany. Probably in the airport. I hate airports… (Not going into detail…I just always manage to drop something)…**


	5. The Wheel is Spinning

I didn't go home. I stayed and gritted my teeth. I made it somehow until history. Miss Jenkins glared at me - so nothing was new. Even know the dream was playing in my head like a film reel, I tried to conentrate on what Miss Jenkins was saying. But I couldn't as usual. I couldn't concentrate on anything. Not even at lunch, when someone was trying to tell me about something that happened somtime last year. It was like my mind had left.

"Are you alright?" Harriet asked.

"Great." I answer.

"You're a really bad liar." she says.

"I never said I was a good liar." I answer. Despite the fact that it was my attmpt to close the conversation, it made her more persistant.

"You seem really upset." Harriet said.

"I'm not." I insist.

"I won't be able to help you if you don't tell me." she says.

"You wont' be able to help me." I say. She looks at me expectantly.

"Go on..." she says.

"What?" I say.

"You wont' be able to help me, etc, etc." Harriet says.

"That was it. You won't be able to help me, full stop."

"Oh. Why not?" she asks.

"Because." I say. And then I change tactics. "Fine. I'll tell you. I'm upset because Miss Jenkins thinks I need a tutor." I say.

"Oh. She has a point." Lily joins in.

"I think it's a bad idea." I say.

"You should try it." Harriet says.

"Maybe. I don't know." I say.

Who says I can't lie? I actuallty think I'm pretty good at lying.

When I want to be.

_The wheel is spinning, but he hamster is dead....(I don't know who said this, sorry.)_

**A/N: I'm Baaaaaaaaaaacccccckkk. **

**Hi. Sorry for not updating any earlier, and sorry this is short. Haha. I got food posining in Germany. (That's what I get for agreeing to eat random stuff.) And now I broke my finger. Seriously. Doors are dangerous. Get them out of the schools! Anyway, this has very bad spelling. I think. I have no spellcheck. It was eaten by the paperclip. Possibly. Please review. **


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